drive when an explosion ripped through the air, knocking her off her feet and spewing stone, dust and debris across the green lawns.
The spacious white building with elegant arches crumbled before her eyes, the center collapsing into a pile of rubble. A cloud of black smoke and brown dust rose into the air, billowing out from the center of the blast.
TJ tried to sit up, but when she did, her ears rang and the scene before her spun out of control. Bending forward, she tucked her head between her knees, fighting for control of her senses and the contents of her stomach. When she managed to raise her head, her vision blurred, dust filled her lungs and she erupted in a burst of coughing.
Men and women ran toward a jumble of crumbled stone, jagged timbers and broken glass where the American embassy had once stood. People scrambled around the debris, but nothing moved beneath the destruction. Those who’d been inside couldn’t have survived the blast.
Sean.
As the screech of sirens moved closer, a woman’s wail rose above the noise. The sound emerged from deep in TJ’s chest. She swayed, welcoming the black abyss dragging her into darkness.
Chapter Two
Spring in Washington, D.C. usually made TJ happy. Today, despite the blooming cherry blossoms, her jog was all work. She made her way through Rock Creek Park and down to the towpaths formerly used by the mules that towed barges along the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. The C&O Canal ran parallel to the Potomac River and was usually a peaceful place to run. But TJ wasn’t in a peaceful frame of mind.
A month had passed since Congressman Haddock’s death and TJ’s subsequent return from Conbanau. The government still didn’t know much more about who caused the death and destruction. Several terrorist groups claimed responsibility, contradicting themselves and sending Congress, the CIA and the president into an uproar for resolution and vindication.
TJ had spent the week following the explosion helping the CIA and the American government with the investigation and arranging for the congressman’s remains to be shipped back to the States. In between dodging reporters and trying to answer questions she didn’t have the answers to, she searched for Sean.
All the surviving casualties had been sent to the Conbanau Mercy Hospital following the explosion. Although TJ insisted she was all right, they’d kept her overnight for observation. She’d managed to slip from her room and find Sean in the mass-casualty chaos the hospital staff was ill-prepared to handle.
Although his head was wrapped in a swath of white gauze bandages, he was the Sean she’d spent two wonderful weeks with. He’d been hooked up to IVs and was unconscious.
TJ wanted him to wake and talk to her, to hold her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. But he was unresponsive, either due to his injuries or the drugs loaded into his IV. She sat beside him until a nurse chased her back to her room.
Sick over the death of Congressman Haddock, she’d crawled into her lone hospital bed and fallen into an exhausted sleep. She didn’t wake until the nurse came through the following morning with breakfast.
TJ had waited until the nurse left the room and entered the next room down the hall. Then she slipped out to check on Sean.
When she reached the room she’d found him in the night before, another victim from the explosion occupied the bed Sean had been in.
As if in a fog, she checked the rooms on either side, afraid she’d been confused. Finally, she asked a nurse where Sean had been taken. The young woman checked her charts and then placed a hand on TJ’s arm. That’s when she was told Sean had been taken to the mortuary.
TJ stumbled on the path. Fewer people jogged on the dirt, choosing to keep their running shoes clean on the pavement. TJ preferred to be closer to the water and the relative solitude she could find in a city teeming with people.
The nightmares were only just beginning to fade and she liked to think she was getting her life back on track.
But then she’d gotten word from her contact in the CIA that the terrorist attack on the U.S. embassy hadn’t been the responsibility of Prime Minister Abediayi’s political opponents. Nor had it been any of the terrorist organizations claiming credit. The CIA suspected the death and destruction had been bought and paid for by an American citizen and they were digging into the case, more determined than ever to discover the organization or individual responsible.
Her mind had a hard time latching on to the news. An American had arranged for the explosion that killed Congressman Haddock, several legislative assistants, the American ambassador to Dindi and the Dindi prime minister, among too many others. The blast had also killed Sean McNeal, an innocent businessman.
TJ swallowed hard on the bile rising in her throat. With so many terrorist groups killing Americans, she found it hard to believe one of her own countrymen had done this terrible thing. The weight of the knowledge pressed down on her shoulders, slowing her feet until she came to a complete stop. She stared out over the canal, neither seeing the people on the other side, nor the rowers paddling canoes and kayaks along its smooth water.
All she could see was the glint of light in Sean’s eyes as he bent to kiss her. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her bare skin, smoothing down her back and lower. For a man she’d only known two weeks, he’d left an indelible mark. A mark she’d fought hard to erase.
She turned and headed back to her apartment, continuing along the dirt towpath. She caught glimpses of people on the parallel paved path through the trees. One in particular sailed past her, his dark hair and tall build striking a chord of familiarity. Her heart leaped inside her chest and she had to talk herself down from the jolt.
Because she was thinking about Sean, had her mind superimposed his image on the man jogging the other trail? Despite reasoning, she picked up her pace to match that of the man’s. Ahead, the two trails converged and she’d get a better view of him. Not that he was Sean. Sean died in Dindi. They’d taken him to the mortuary in the hospital’s basement and shipped him out even before TJ could visit the body for confirmation. All the paperwork had been in order and his family had requested that his remains be shipped immediately.
After all the hoops the American government had gone through to get Congressman Haddock’s body back to U.S. soil, TJ had questioned the speed with which Sean’s body had left the hospital and country. At the time, she’d attributed it to the fact Haddock was a congressman, and everything in the government moved slower.
The trees and brush grew denser for several yards and TJ lost sight of the jogger. When she reached the trail convergence, blood pounded so hard against her eardrums she couldn’t hear. A blond, athletic man emerged, not the dark-haired jogger she’d been racing to catch.
Feeling foolish, she slowed her breakneck pace, but she couldn’t help scanning the side roads leading up to K Street until she reached Rock Creek Parkway and headed north. Increasing her stride, she reached her street in less than fifteen minutes, cursing herself for allowing thoughts of Sean to manifest into a sighting.
After showering and slipping into work clothes, she pulled a bagel from the freezer and popped it into the toaster. Then she turned on the news, hoping the noise would fill her mind and block out the echoing sound of the explosion still ringing in her ears.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Kat Sikes stepped out of the conference room affectionately known as the War Room. In the ranks of the
